Because I Love You
by L.B.Wolfe
Summary: Marik and Bakura. Two thieves who express their love for each other in some rather unusual ways. Oneshot collection centered around Marik and Bakura. Thiefshipping.
1. Dreams

**A/N: I don't know why I decided to start writing a oneshot collection, but I'm giving it a shot. Some of these will be AU, but others will not be.**

**Title: Dreams**

**Summary: Marik's yami has been "visiting" a lot lately, but Bakura's always there to protect the Egyptian hikari.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, or its characters.**

* * *

"Marik, I've told you already, you'll be fine! Your yami won't be coming back tonight, I sent him to the deepest corner of the Shadow Realm! It'll take him a while to get out of there."

"But, Bakura...I'm scared. Can't you just stay tonight?"

"Fine. I'll stay on the couch."

"There's a spare bedroom if you'd rather-"

"The couch is fine."

"...Okay." I let out a sigh. "Thank you, Bakura. Malik really scared me tonight. I thought he was going to kill me for sure." Bakura rolled his eyes. He didn't understand my fear. But then again, how could he?

"Marik, as long as you have sense in that idiot head of yours to call me, your yami won't hurt you. I won't let him." Did he really just imply that he would always protect me? "It's late. I'm going to bed, and I suggest you do the same."

"Do you need a blanket or anything?"

"No."

"O-okay." I start for the stairs. "Good night, Bakura."

"Hn."

That's one of the few responses I ever get from him. It's always a grunt or "I don't care." The latter is the most frequent.

Well, it's not like he'll actually stay, anyway. He says he will, but I know he'll just end up leaving once I'm asleep. He never stays at my place very long. That's why I savor every second I see him. Because in the next, he'll be gone.

* * *

I wake up a few hours later. 3:00 am. I've been waking up at this time a lot lately. Ever since Odion and Ishizu went back to Egypt, my yami has been "visiting" more and more. I don't like to admit it, but he frightens me. I've been having nightmares about him. Every time, he almost always kills me, but I'm always saved by a certain white-haired thief.

Bakura.

Did he...? I shouldn't hope. I should just go back to sleep, so I can see him in my dreams.

Against my will, I find myself climbing out of bed, going downstairs, making a beeline for the living room.

He stayed! My heart races when I see Bakura, lying on the couch, fast asleep. Unable to help myself, I step further into the room, eager for a closer look.

I stand there, watching the rise and fall of his chest, before I drag my gaze to his face. He looks so peaceful. So innocent. So...beautiful. I study the way his hair carefully frames his face, in a way it doesn't when he's awake. For a brief moment, I almost think that it's Ryou, that Bakura has retreated inside his host. But I know it's the thief.

He murmurs something in his sleep and turns his head slightly.

What do you dream about, Bakura? Do I haunt your dreams as vividly as you haunt mine? Do you purposely think of me before you fall asleep, hoping you'll dream of me, as I do with you?

...Do you ever dream of _us_?

Us. Together. Holding hands. Hugging. Perhaps even...kissing?

Do these things ever cross your mind, Bakura, awake or asleep?

I imagine these, every day. I lock them in my head, thinking a stupid thought, hoping a foolish hope, wishing a futile wish.

Bakura...

You are arrogant. You are stubborn. You are always rushing into danger without a second thought of your own safety, or the safety of those around you.

And yet...

You are brave. You are determined. You know what you want and will do anything to get it.

...Would you ever want _me_?

Would you ever care for me?

Would you ever..._love_ me?

Why do I think of this so often? Why do I think of _you_ so often? Why does the mere thought of you cause me to feel this way?

Why do I ask myself such foolish questions?

I turn, ready to go back to bed. I pause, just before I leave the living room. I glance back at Bakura's sleeping form.

And I answer my own questions.

In a whisper, so low I can barely hear it myself, I answer myself:

"Because I love you."


	2. Snow

**A/N: Here's another one. The inspiration obviously being the wintertime.**

**Thanks to: xXI. Hate. TwilightXx, Shadow of Untouchable Light, MaskYourSmile, Elle-L, and MalikXBakura for reviewing!**

**Title: Snow**

**Summary: Bakura comes to visit a certain Egyptian on a snow day.**

* * *

Marik stared out the window as the fluffy flakes drifted down from the sky. The sun was peeking out from the clouds, making the snow already on the ground sparkle as if diamonds had been buried within the powdery substance.

"It sure is pretty," Marik remarked. He turned away from the window. "From the inside, at least." Marik had - accidentally - discovered just how _cold_ the snow was when he had slipped and fallen into a snow bank after school one day. "Slipped**" **was incorrect; Joey had pushed him into it when he learned that Marik had never seen snow before.

Marik sat down on the couch, pulling a blanket over his legs. School had been closed due to the amount of snow. Odion and Ishizu were both working, so Marik had the place to himself. Well, except for Ishizu's cat, but that creature wasn't really company.

Bored, Marik picked up the remote and began surfing through channels, looking for something remotely interesting to watch. Nothing was on, except for the news and a few gushy soap operas all about love, heartbreak, deceit, teenage pregnancy, blah, blah, blah.

With a groan, Marik dropped the remote. He had stopped surfing on some talk show, by the look of it. Four people sat on chairs on a stage. A middle-aged, bald man was talking to a young girl about twenty. He seemed to be giving her some kind of advice:

"Now, Tammie, you need to find some way to escape without using drugs. You're hurting yourself, you're hurting your kids, you're hurting your husband..."

Marik watched with disinterest for a few moments before turning off the tv. He never quite got the point of those weird talk shows. It was probably just an excuse for the guests to say that they were on tv.

"Stupid publicity hounds," he muttered, stretching out on the couch and getting comfortable. A sudden knock at the door made him jump. Grumbling under his breath, he got off the couch and looked out the window to see who it was. Raising one eyebrow, he answered the door.

"What are you doing here, Bakura?" he asked the second the door was open. Crimson-tinged eyes rolled.

"Well, _there's_ a warm welcome," a heavy English accent snarled. The albino at the door pushed his way past Marik, into the house.

"I don't recall inviting you in," Marik said, closing the door. Bakura glanced at him, a smirk adorning his pale features.

"Considering that the front door has been closed, my guess is that you won't be asking me to leave anytime soon." Marik's face flushed as he realized Bakura was right.

"What _are _you doing here, Bakura? Don't you have your own house?"

"Yes."

Bakura sat down on the couch, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes.

"Please, sit down," Marik said dryly. Bakura cracked open one eye, still smirking.

"That sarcasm of your is quite a problem, isn't it?"

Ignoring the comment, Marik sat down next to the whitette.

"If you have your own house, why are you here and not there?"

"Ryou's decorating for Christmas. It's driving me nuts. I never understood the point of this whole 'Christmas' thing. Apparently, it's supposed to be a 'holy' holiday, but at the same time, people are promoting stalking, breaking and entering, and stealing food."**(1)**

"Bah, humbug," Marik joked. Bakura grinned at him.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," he remarked.

Thinking his friend was teasing him, Marik rolled his eyes.

"Ugh, I wish I could give them back."

"Hmm...perhaps I'll just have to take them back myself."

"What-" Before Marik could respond, Bakura had leaned over and pressed his lips to Marik's.

The Egyptian teen's eyes grew wide. He felt frozen. After what seemed like an eternity, Bakura pulled back.

"There. I've got them back now," he said. He stood, stretched, and walked to the door. "Later."

Marik sat on the couch, stunned..

"_What the hell just happened?"_ Bakura had kissed him. _Bakura _had kissed _him_. Just what was going on? Did it mean something? Or was it just one of Bakura's mind games? That was it. Bakura was pulling a prank on Marik, trying to get him worked up.

"Well, it isn't working," Marik said. "It takes more than..._that_ to bother me."

Even so, he couldn't help but raise his fingers to his lips, remembering how nice Bakura's had felt against them.

* * *

The next day was Saturday. No school, Odion and Ishizu both at work, the middle-aged, bald man still giving advice to desperate people. Marik felt a serious sense of déjà vu.

"What's missing here?" he wondered as a knock sounded at the door. "Oh, that's right."

"Bakura," he said, answering the door.

"Marik," came the response. The albino brushed past Marik, his hand coming uncomfortably close to the Egyptian's backside. Marik felt a small flutter in his stomach and blushed, still clutching the door.

"Close that thing, will you? It's freezing in here." the irritated-sounding voice snapped Marik back to reality.

"Who are you to order me around in my own house?" he muttered, closing the door. He took a breath. Better get it over with.

"It didn't work, for the record," he said. Bakura looked at him, one eyebrow raised and a glint of confusion in his eyes.

"What?"

"What you did yesterday. It didn't work."

"Oh? And what, pray tell, did I do yesterday?"

Marik blushed. No way out of this one.

"You...you kissed me. And then you left. You were trying to make me mad or something, but it takes more than just that to get me mad."

"Or, really?" Bakura smirked and stepped closer to Marik, who involuntarily took a step back. "You seem awfully flustered to me, Marik."

"I-I am not flustered!" Marik protested, continuing to step backwards as Bakura advanced. "I-I think you should leave, Bakura."

"Hmm...I don't think so."

They both took one more step. Marik's back connected with the wall. Bakura was mere inches from him. Bakura put his hands on the wall, on either side of Marik's head and leaned in closer. Marik's heart started hammering, but he masked it as best as he could.

"Get away from me."

"Now, there's no need for that attitude, Marik-kun." Bakura smirked at the nervousness that flashed through Marik's eyes. "But, if you insist..." Bakura straightened up and walked into the living room. Marik, relieved yet puzzled, took a few deep breaths to calm his still-pounding heart and followed.

Bakura sat down on the couch. After a brief hesitation, Marik sat down next to him. Bakura draped an arm over Marik's shoulders.

"You seem nervous, Marik-kun," he teased. "Something wrong?"

"Get your arm off me," Marik muttered halfheartedly.

Why was Bakura doing all of this? Was he seriously trying to turn Marik on? It wouldn't work. It _couldn't_ work. Marik was not gay! Wasn't he? Marik could never actually remember being attracted to a girl before. He found them to be obnoxious and usually tried to avoid them if at all possible. But Bakura was his friend! He couldn't-

"Marik?" Bakura snapped his fingers in front of Marik's face. "Did you even hear me?"

"Um..."

"What I _said_ was, I wasn't trying to get you angry yesterday. I was tired of waiting for you to make the first move. It's obvious how you feel about me, and I feel the same way. It was easier for me to show you than to tell you."

Marik felt even more confused. "What?"

Bakura sighed. "You are _thick_. Did you know that? Here, is _this_ enough of a hint for you?"

Bakura leaned forward and kissed Marik. Marik hesitated, but soon began to kiss back, allowing his eyes to close and enjoy himself. Bakura smirked when he felt pressure against his lips. At least Marik was responding this time. Eventually, Bakura drew back.

"Understand now?" he asked.

"N-not really," Marik admitted. "Why...?"

"You are _such_ an idiot!" Bakura exclaimed. He leaned forward until his lips brushed against Marik's ear.

"Because I love you."

* * *

**(1) You know it's true.**

**I had my friend proofread this for me, and when she got to the part where Bakura was called an "albino," she said, "Bakura's not an albino." And I said, "Yes he is, he's got white hair, red eyes, and really pale skin. That's an albino." She went on to say that albino's had white hair, pale skin, and **_**pink**_** eyes. Which is the same thing, but my friend's a perfectionist (which is why I love her, even if I want to kill her.) We argued about it, didn't speak to each other for a full minute (our longest silence yet) eventually apologized and she finished reading it. Call him what you want, I say he's an albino. If you don't think so, that's fine. "I disagree with what you have to say, and I will deny to the death your right to say it." ~ **_**Get Fuzzy.**_

**And yes, Marik was watching Dr. Phil. Mock me. I dare you.**

**R&R, please! (Sorry for this long author's note.)**


	3. Stomach Bug

**Title: Stomach Bug**

**Summary: Marik's home sick from school and Bakura volunteers to take care of him.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Yu-Gi-Oh, Thiefshipping would be canon, Bakura would have won, and there would be a lot less card games and more plot. Kazuki Takahashi owns Yu-Gi-Oh, so he is the one who is getting all the money from it. **

* * *

Marik lay curled up in bed. His head was pounding, his throat felt like a knife was stuck in it, and his stomach felt like he had just spent six months at sea and wasn't used to being on land yet.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, stinging his eyes. He was too hot...but if he took the blankets off, he would be too cold.

It was all that Yugi Mutou's fault! They had been lab partners in Science class, and that midget just _had_ to go and sneeze in Marik's face, and then not come to school the next day because he had caught the bug that was going around the school.

And now Marik had it.

"_I hate that kid!"_ Marik thought angrily. "_If he had any common sense, he would've covered his mouth!"_

Just remembering how he hd gotten sick made Marik's throat hurt more. He started coughing, sitting up in an attempt to clear his lungs a little.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs as he hunched over, still coughing. He felt someone place a hand on his back, rubbing it gently. When his coughing fit subsided, he looked up at his best friend, Bakura. Bakura had offered to look after Marik while Odion and Ishizu were working. They were worried about him missing school, but Bakura cut school often enough, anyway, and if the teachers gave him a hard time about it, he could just say that he was sick, too.

"You okay, Marik?" Bakura asked. Marik nodded.

"I think so," he responded. In actuality, he felt like absolute crap, but didn't want Bakura to worry too much. Frowning slightly, Bakura brushed Marik's hair away from his forehead and laid his hand across it.

"You still have a fever," he said. "Try to get some sleep."

It was somewhat unnatural, for Bakura to be acting like this. He was by nature a cocky, rather rude, "I-don't-give-a-damn-what-people-think" kind of guy. Yet here he was, standing beside Marik's bed, telling him to get some sleep. But then again, Marik was one of the few people who actually knew Bakura's soft side. Scratch that, Marik was one of the few people who knew that Bakura actually _had_ a soft side.

When Marik had first come to Domino City, he was labeled as a foreigner, a weirdo, a dork. He was ridiculed for his accent and the way he dressed, the way he didn't look like either of his sibling. Then, one day, the teasing suddenly stopped. Marik later found out that one of the toughest kids in school had taken pity on him and had personally put an end to it all.

Bakura.

Marik had never quite understood why, but from that day on, Bakura had become his best friend. There were times that Marik wanted Bakura to be something _more_ than just a friend - the rumors flying around school that they were secretly sleeping together certainly didn't help this matter - but he would never admit his feelings out loud. If Bakura ever found out about how Marik felt, their friendship would be ruined. Bakura was the only friend Marik had in this city. He didn't want to lose him.

"Call me if you need anything," Bakura said as he walked out of Marik's room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Marik lay back down, pulling the blankets around him. He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep, but all he could think about was Bakura. It had felt _so good_ when Bakura was rubbing his back. Marik wished his friend hadn't just been doing it because he had been coughing. Marik wanted Bakura to put his arms around him and hold him close until he felt better.

"_Stop with the fantasies!"_ Marik scolded himself. _"It's never going to happen. You're just hurting yourself."_

Marik settled further under the blankets. He might not be able to fall asleep, but he could at least rest a little...His eyes suddenly shot open.

"Oh, gods, no," he muttered. He curled up into a tight ball and tried to ignore the churning in his stomach. A wave of nausea enveloped him and he leaped out of bed, bolting for the bathroom down the hall.

He fell to his knees beside the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl. As he was retching, he was dimly aware of someone pulling his sandy blond hair back, holding it away from his face.

When he was finished, Marik slowly pushed himself to his feet and leaned against the sink. A bottle of mouthwash was placed in his hand. He took a small swig and swished it, allowing the cool flavor of mint to overtake the disgusting tang of vomit. He spat the mouthwash into the sink and looked up into the mirror. Bakura was standing behind him.

"How you doing?" the albino asked with a small smile. (It looked more like a smirk, but Marik was too worn out to care.)

"I've been better," the Egyptian admitted.

"Can you get back to your room okay?"

"Of course I can!" Marik couldn't help but feel the slightest bit miffed, despite his crush on the pale teen. He wasn't _that_ sick; he could walk perfectly fine! He pushed himself away from the sink and started for the door, only to have Bakura place one hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"What?" Marik asked. He didn't want to stay in the bathroom. He was tired, he wanted to go to bed. Throwing up must have worn him out more than he thought.

Much to his surprise, he was lifted off the floor, now held bridal-style by Bakura's strong arms. Marik blushed, clinging to Bakura's shirt. _This_ was an unexpected turn of events.

"_If this is a dream, please don't pinch me!"_ he thought.

"You looked like you were going to collapse," Bakura told him, carrying him back to his room. Marik barely heard him. He was much too busy concentrating on the fact that Bakura was actually carrying him. _Holding_ him. Of his own free will. Bridal-style, no less! It was so unlike Bakura to do something like this.

"Bakura," Marik murmured as he was laid on his bed and the blankets were pulled around him. "Why are you acting like this? It's not like you at all." Marik was almost asleep, he wasn't even sure if he had spoken.

"Why am I acting like this? I figured it was pretty obvious."

Marik was so tired, he could scarcely tell dream from reality. He could have sworn that he felt cool lips brush against his burning forehead. Just before he finally fell asleep, he thought he heard Bakura's silky British baritone saying one last thing:

"Because I love you."

* * *

**God, it's been forever since I've written to this story...I forgot my ideas for about half the one-shots I had planned for this...Gotta make up a new list.**

**R&R please!**


	4. Graveyard

**A/N: So...after a seven month haitus, I finally have another oneshot. I lost the little notebook that contained my oneshot ideas, so I've been trying to remember them until I can find it. I don't think this one was written down, but I like it a lot, so I hope you readers will too.**

**IMPORTANT (kind of): Yes, Marik is a girl in this one. I know it sound stupid, but when I came up with this idea, genderbending Marik was the only way I could come up with to make the story progress. People may not like it, but I can do what I want.**

**Title: Graveyard**

**Summary: Marik sneaks out at night to meet with a man who cannot be seen in the daylight.**

* * *

**London, 1800's:**

Marik quietly crept down the stairs of her home. She accidentally stepped on the one stair that always creaked when the slightest bit of weight was placed on it and held her breath as the sound echoed through the house. She waited for ten heart-stopping seconds before deciding that her siblings hadn't heard her and continued down the stairs.

She reached the back door - exiting through the front door was too risky, she could be seen by a nighttime policeman - and jumped when she heard a voice behind her.

"Where are you going?"

She turned around and was momentarily blinded by the small flame of a candle, the only light in the dark house. When her eyes adjusted, she was able to make out the form of her adoptive brother.

"Odion," she said, trying not to show how much he had startled her. "I, um, I couldn't sleep. I was just going for a walk to clear my mind."

"A walk at this time of night with no source of light?" Odion sighed. "Marik, these midnight walks must stop. If someone were to see you walking alone..."

"Brother, I'll be fine. It will be just a short walk."

Odion sighed. "What do you plan on saying if someone sees you?"

"Well...that I was sent out on an errand. Is that all right?"

"So you would lie. Just what is it you're doing on these walks of yours?"

Marik was silent. What was she supposed to say? She didn't like lying to Odion. He was one of the few people in the world that she trusted. Oh, why did he have to catch her?

"I'm sorry," she finally said. "I'll just go back to bed."

"No. It's not my place to stop you from doing what you wish. After all, I'm just a servant."

Marik took a couple steps forward and wrapped her arms around her adoptive brother's waist, hugging him tightly. Her mother had wished to raise Odion as her own son after she had taken him in from the streets as a baby. After their mother's death, Marik's older sister, Ishizu, pleaded with their father not to send Odion back into the streets. He agreed, but instead of treating Odion like a son, he was demoted to servant status, taking care of the master's house and daughters.

"Thank you, brother," Marik whispered, stepping backwards. She knew that Odion would simply go back to bed and would the next morning deny seeing her sneak out. She could trust Odion. She hoped.

* * *

Marik pushed open the rusted gate of the graveyard and stepped in. She shivered as the night air suddenly seemed to drop several degrees. Her breath fogged in the air and she wished she had worn something warmer. She should know better, after so many nights spent here.

Rubbing her arms, she slowly made her way across the cemetary, coming to a stop in front of one gravestone in particular:

**Veronica Ishtar**

**1792-1825**

**Loving Mother, Obedient Wife**

Marik knelt down in front of her mother's grave and gently brushed her fingertips over the engraved words.

"Hello, Mother," she whispered. "I'm sorry I haven't visited you these last few times I have been here. I know you must be lonely."

"I hate to break it to you, my dear, but the dead feel nothing, not even lonliness."

Marik jumped up at the voice behind her. Before she could turn around, a pale arm slid around her waist and a hand covered her mouth, preventing her from making a noise.

"I hope you don't mind, my dear," a seductive voice purred in her ear. "But I haven't eaten all day." Marik's head was tilted to one side and she squirmed, shaking the hand off of her mouth.

"Bakura!" she cried, turning around in the pale man's arms and throwing her arms around his neck. "I've told you not to sneak up on me like that!"

"Apologies, Marik. Sometimes the temptation is just to great to resist."

Marik took a step back and smiled at the pale man before her. His eyes gleamed red in the light of the full moon, and his snow-white hair hung down past his shoulders, but what never failed to catch her attention was the two long fangs that overlapped the rest of his teeth when he bared them in what was supposed to be a charming smile. This was her secret, her lover, Bakura.

A vampire.

Many of the townspeople were superstitious. Somehow, they had gotten the idea that a vampire was living nearby, waiting to feed off of their blood the moment they let their guard down. They never wandered out at night, and did their best to avoid the cemetary, even during the day when there was nothing to fear. But Marik had never believed the rumors and had decided to go to the graveyard late at night to prove to the townspeople how foolish they were being. She hadn't known at the time that there _was_ a vampire living in a tomb at the cemetary, and she hadn't expected to fall in love with him.

She had kept her distance at first, never speaking to him, only watching him from a distance. Until one night, when he spoke to her;

"_I know that you're there. You've been watching me for quite some time."_ The moment he turned and locked eyes with her, Marik felt a chill run through her body. "_Young women should not be wandering alone at night. Particularly in a graveyard."_

_"I'm...I'm not afraid of you. If you knew I was watching you, why didn't you attack me?"_

_"Hmm. Perhaps it was because no mortal has ever watched me with such fascination before. Or..."_ He had somehow gotten behind her, running his chilled fingers down her arms. "_Perhaps it's because I have never been so fascinated with a human before."_

Marik did her best to go to the graveyard every night after that encounter. At first she had been wary, ready to scream if he made a lunge for her throat. But as time went on, she grew to trust the vampire, and fell more in love with him on each visit.

Bakura's arms drawing her close brought her out of her memories. She shivered slightly and he made a slight tsk-ing sound.

"After all this time, you do not remember how cold this cemetary gets at night? Foolish little mortal, why don't you dress warmer?"

"I'm sorry," Marik said, placing her hands on his chest and smiling at him. "I was in such a rush to see you that I didn't think."

"I'm sorry that I can't do much to keep you warm," Bakura muttered, wrapping his own cloak around Marik's shoulders. Marik smiled slightly, before remembering what happened earlier.

"I may not be able to visit you for a while, Bakura," she said. "Odion caught me sneaking out tonight. I think he suspects something. I know that he won't tell but...I do not like keeping secrets from him."

Bakura tightened his grip on his mortal lover.

"Then let me turn you, Marik," he whispered. "It wouldn't hurt you, and you wouldn't have to lie to them any longer. You could tell them everything, and then I could take you away before anyone could harm you."

"I...I cannot let you, Bakura. Not yet," Marik responded, pressing her face against Bakura's shirt.

"Why not?" Bakura asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. He stroked Marik's hair gently. "You do not need them. We have each other."

Marik tilted her head back and looked Bakura sadly in the eyes.

"But they need me, Bakura."

Bakura closed his eyes and held Marik close.

"Are you certain?"

Marik nodded.

"Someday..." she whispered. Bakura sighed and released his grip on Marik, holding her out at arms' length.

"In the meantime..." he murmured with a smirk, baring his fangs in the slightest and making Marik shiver again. "Shall we make love? Right here, right now?"

Marik glanced down at the gravestone the couple was still in front of.

"Not in front of my mother..." she said. Bakura rolled his eyes slightly.

"She's dead, my love. She won't scold us."

"I know, but...it just doesn't seem right."

"Alright. If you feel so strongly about it, we can go to my tomb. But I warn you, you will have a much longer walk back home."

"I don't mind walking."

Bakura grinned, his fangs gleaming in the moonlight.

"Then let's go."

**Several Weeks Later...**

Bakura perched on top of a gravestone and studied the moon. Midnight. Marik would be here soon, if she was able to sneak out. That interfering brother of hers had kept her away from Bakura for much too long. He needed to see her, to hold her.

If only she would let him turn her! He would keep her safe from the so-called "vampire hunters" that would spring up from time to time in every town he visited. She would no longer be suffocated by that overbearing family of hers. She wouldn't have to be afraid of being discovered and killed for associating with a vampire. She would be his, and he would be hers. They only needed each other. They didn't need anyone to interfere.

"Bakura?"

She was here. Bakura jumped down from the gravestone, landing in front of her. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close.

"Marik," he whispered. "I have missed you."

"I've missed you, too." Marik gripped him tightly, pressing her face into his chest. Bakura took hold of her shoulders and gently pushed her away, holding her out at arms length.

"What is it, Marik?" he asked, sensing that something was troubling his mate.

"I need you to turn me."

Bakura was taken aback by the blunt demand. Had something happened to her family? Had their relationship been discovered somehow?

"Marik...why now?"

Marik looked down. Taking on of Bakura's hands, she linked his fingers with her own and pressed them against her stomach.

"I am with child," she whispered. "Your child."

Bakura's eyes widened slightly. He took half a step back. Fate was cruel, so cruel. Just the two of them had suddenly become something much, much bigger.

"Bakura, you must turn me," Marik pleaded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Bakura stepped closer to her and pulled her close once more.

"I cannot," he whispered.

"But..."

"Not until the child is born. If I were to turn you now, it would irreversibly damage the child. We would have to kill it the moment it was born."

Mariki gasped quietly, putting one hand over her mouth.

"But...when the doctor's see the child, they will know...They'll know it is not a mortal man's child!"

Bakura pressed one hand on Marik's stomach, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

"The child will be born at night," he said. "All vampire children must be born at night, even if they are half-mortal. The daylight would kill them the moment it met their skin. You must come to me before the baby is born. A week before, if you are able. We will leave this place. Forever. Then, when the child has been born, I will turn you."

"What about the baby?" Marik whispered. "If it is half-mortal, half-vampire, it would die someday, wouldn't it?"

"No. Half-mortals age slower than normal mortals. They age the equivalent of two mortal years every century. When they reach the age that they wish to remain in immortally, they perform a ritual that will prevent them from aging any longer." Bakura sighed. "At least, that's what I've heard..." He looked at Marik and kissed her forehead gently.

"What do your siblings think? Do they know?" Marik nodded.

"Odion believes that I've been sneaking out at night to go see someone. He's right, of course, but he assumes it's a mortal."

"Then he's wrong. And your sister?" Marik glanced at the ground.

"She is disappointed in me. She doesn't say it, but I can tell." Bakura held Marik close, stroking her hair.

"Don't worry, my love. Soon you and our child will be with me forever, and you won't have to worry about disappointing her ever again."

"I know. I should go back. They've been keeping a closer eye on me since we found out..."

"I understand." Bakura kissed Marik. "Be careful. Tell people that the father was a traveler who ran off when he learned of the child."

"I will. I shall return before the child is born."

**Several months later...**

Bakura paced around the cemetary, his cloak flowing in the wind behind him. It was drawing closer and closer to the time when the baby would be born. Why was Marik waiting so long? Was she really so reluctant to leave her family?

Bakura's head snapped up at the sound of running feet. Someone was approaching. He ducked behind a gravestone and waited. Soon, Marik appeared, looking disheveled. Panting, she looked around desperately, clutching a small bundle to her chest. It couldn't be...

Bakura flew out from behind the gravestone and was next to Marik in an instant. Without saying a word, he pulled a blanket back from the bundle, revealing a small, pale face framed by snow-white hair. His child. Bakura looked at Marik, opening his mouth, but she spoke before he could.

"I tried to come last night, Bakura, but the baby...he came early. I couldn't do anything. The doctor saw his eyes, Bakura, he knows! He went to tell the rest of the village. Odion helped me escape. Bakura, we have to run!"

Bakura closed his eyes and listened. He could faintly hear the rest of the villagers approaching the graveyard, set to kill all three of them.

"Marik, take our son and go. I'll hold them off and catch up to you."

"No!" Marik clutched Bakura's arm. "I cannot run on my own forever, Bakura. I need you. Ryou needs you."

Bakura looked down at the bundle once more. Ryou, his son, was fast asleep, completely unaware to the impeding danger. There was no way Bakura could leave them.

"Alright. We'll go to my tomb. There's a tunnel in there that we can escape through. But we have to hurry," he said urgently, the sound of footsteps drawing closer. "Or they will catch us."

Marik nodded, holding Ryou closer. Bakura took her free hand and started running, making a beeline for his tomb. Four marble walls, and one heavy stone door, no mortal man could open it on his own.

"_Unless there were many mortal men with the proper equipment to break through stone,"_ Bakura thought with a grimace. No, he could not think that. He had to protect Marik and Ryou. He had to get to the tomb, seal the door, open the tunnel...

Marik cried out as she slipped. Bakura steadied her.

"We're almost there, Marik," he said. "We'll be safe soon."

Marik stared down at Ryou with tears in her eyes. Kissing his forehead softly, she handed the bundle to Bakura.

"I cannot go on," she said. "I was already tired from giving birth. I have no strength left. You have to continue, Bakura. Keep Ryou safe. I promise, I will find you again."

"Marik, they will kill you! I can't let you-"

"Bakura." Marik stared into his eyes. "Please. Go. Take care of Ryou. Keep him from harm. And remember that I will find you both."

Bakura kissed Marik hard. There was no time left. The crowd was too close. He couldn't convince Marik to flee. She was mortal, she was tired, she was going to die here, by the hands of those she had once called her friends.

"I will never stop searching for you," Bakura promised. Marik squeezed his hand.

"Go."

Bakura took off into the night, forcing himself not to look back. The child in his arms stirred and began to whimper. He held his son protectively and murmured to him in an attempt to soothe him, but all that was coming to his mind was the child's mother.

"Marik, I will find you again," he said. "I don't care how many centuries it will take. I will find you. And when I do, I will turn you, no matter what. I will not let you be taken away from us again. I promise.

Because I love you."

* * *

**A/N: I really like this one. I don't know why, I just really do. I might consider turning it into a full-length story someday, if enough people are interested. However, if I did, it would be probably sometime in the spring or summer.**

**R&R if you like it!**


	5. BoyfriendGirlfriend

**I dedicate this oneshot to my good friend Emily, simply because I was texting her while writing it and we took great delight in discussing the aspects of it. She is my bestest friend ever and I know she'll give me a really awesome birthday present for dedicating this oneshot to her. **

**Note: Bakura is a female in this story. I figured since Marik was genderbent in my last oneshot, I might as well torture Bakura in the same way. (Even though this one doesn't quite open up into a full story like the last oneshot.)**

**Title: Boyfriend/Girlfriend**

**Summary: Courtesy of Mariku's messing with the Millennium Rod, Bakura's a female. Marik isn't exactly complaining about this development.**

* * *

Bakura ran to the nearest mirror, pressing his palms against the glass, eyes widening in horror.

"No...no, no, _fucking HELL_ NO!" he screamed. Marik, lounging on the bed, raised an eyebrow at him.

"Would you chill out?" he asked. "You'll wake the neighbors."

"Chill out? _Chill out_? Marik, are you honestly not seeing this?" Bakura yelled, whirling around to face the Egyptian.

Marik saw it, all right. It was hard to miss when your live-in boyfriend suddenly became your live-in _girl_friend, courtesy of your other half's shinanigans with the Millennium Rod. Mariku had somehow gotten the notion that it would be fun to change Bakura into something else for a day or two, just to freak the spirit out.

"I was going for a cat," was his excuse when questioned.

Long story short, the cat thing had backfired, and Bakura had turned into a woman.

"_And a damn _hot_ woman, at that,"_ Marik thought, allowing his eyes to roam over his- her- _Bakura's _body. The white-haired spirit had turned back to the mirror and was glaring at his/her reflection furiously, trying not to look at the breasts that were currently residing on his being, accidently giving Marik a good view of his ass in the process. Not that Marik was complaining.

"_God dammit,"_ Marik thought. _"Maybe we should've turned him into a woman sooner."_ Not too say that Bakura didn't look good as a man, but as a woman, every good-looking detail of his body seemed to be multiplied by ten. He/She may have been wearing men's clothes still, but they clung to those curves in all the right ways and none of the bad ways.

"Marik, you need to fix this," Bakura said. "_Now._"

"Me?" Marik folded his arms behind his head. "Why me? Mariku's the one who got you into this situation in the first place, and my sister knows a hell of a lot more about the powers of the Millennium Items than I do. Between the two of them, I'm sure we can figure out some way to turn you back eventually."

"Eventually?" Bakura whirled around and glared at Marik. "How soon is _eventually_, Marik?" Marik rolled his eyes. Evidently, Bakura had developed the attitude of a women in addition to the body of one.

"Look, I'll call my sister tomorrow and explain the situation to her. Hopefully, she'll be able to help. If it comes down to it, I'll talk to Yugi. The Pharoah might know something."

"I'd rather die than accept help from the Pharoah!" Bakura spat. Marik smirked, getting up off of the bed.

"So if Mariku can't fix it, and Ishizu can't fix it, you'd rather stay in a woman's body rather than ask Yami for help?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"...Why wait till tomorrow? Why not call your sister right now?" Bakura asked, not quite liking the way the Egyptian was walking towards him.

"My sister's probably asleep. She does have to get up early for work, you know." Marik paused a foot or so in front of Bakura. "I'll call her tomorrow."

"And just what am I supposed to do in the meantime?" Bakura demanded, crossing his/her arms, not quite liking the way his breasts squished together when he performed this action. Marik smirked.

"I can come up with one or two good ideas," he said, stepping closer to Bakura.

"Don't you dare come near me, Ishtar," Bakura threatened, sidestepping around Marik. "Maybe you should sleep in the guestroom tonight. Or maybe..." Bakura growled when Marik grabbed his wrist and yanked him closer. "Maybe the _couch_ is the ideal place for you tonight!"

Marik smirked again, wrapping his arms around Bakura's waist. He had always been a few centimeters taller than the pale spirit, but now he finally knew what it was like to be stronger than him, too. He quite liked the feeling.

"Oh, come on, Kura," Marik teased. "When's the next time we'd get an opportunity like this?"

"Hopefully, never!" Bakura replied, trying to squirm out of Marik's grip. Dammit, when did Marik get so strong?

"My point exactly! We'll never get another opportunity, so why not enjoy it while we can?" Marik asked with a grin. Bakura snarled and Marik laughed.

"Now, don't get all pouty just because you can't top tonight, Kura," he said, grinning . "You know you're just as curious as I am."

"I am not!" Bakura insisted. Marik was holding him too close, and the way his boobs were pressed up against the Egyptian's chest did not feel comfortable at all. "And I'm not pouty because 'I can't top tonight', I'm pouty because these boobs are killing my back!"

"That's what bras were invented for, Kura," Marik said. A sharp glare from Bakura shut him up. "But a backache is easily remedied. C'mere." Before the spirit could protest, Marik scooped him/her up and deposited her on the bed, manuvering so that he was leaning over Bakura on his hands and knees.

"Roll over onto your stomach," he said. Bakura glared at him.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

"Fine, if you don't want a backrub, then. I could massage your front if you wanted me to..."

Glaring, Bakura rolled over so he was lying on his stomach, cringing at the way his boobs smushed between the mattress and his body. Marik smirked.

"I figured you'd see my way eventually, Kura."

"Don't try anything funny, Ishtar. I've still got my pocketknife inside my sock, remember."

"Perish the thought, pet. I just thought that since you seem so uncomfortable like this, I'd do a little something to help you feel better. Since there's not much I can do to help you change back, I mean."

Marik lowered his hands onto the spirit's back. Bakura tensed slightly at first, but after a few moments decided Marik's actions were innocent enough and relaxed slightly. Marik smiled.

"That's right, just relax," he murmured, gently massaging the area between Bakura's shoulder blades. Bakura closed his eyes. He hated to admit it, but it did feel awfully good. He could feel himself relaxing under Marik's touch, almost forgetting the horror of the day.

Marik leaned forward and nuzzled his face into Bakura's hair, which was basically the same since his change, although it was less fluffy and more silky. He nipped Bakura's ear teasingly, bringing the spirit back to the real world.

"I'm not too bad with my hands, huh, Kura?" he asked, nuzzling Bakura's neck. Bakura growled, but didn't move. Marik dared to let his hands wander just a little lower, brushing the hem of Bakura's shirt. He casually slipped one hand up the blue and white-striped t-shirt, running his hand over Bakura's skin. He felt Bakura's muscles tense up under his touch, but he continued to talk, sliding his other hand up the shirt as well. "You know, if you'd let me, I could-"

Before Marik could finish his sentence, before he could even think, he was suddenly on his back on the mattress, Bakura leaning over him with fury gleaming in his/her eyes. Marik gulped. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed his luck so far. Maybe he should've just left Bakura alone. Maybe he should've called his sister, even though she was asleep. Bakura glared at him for a full five minutes before finally speaking.

"You're lucky I love you, otherwise you'd be dead." Marik blinked and Bakura smirked. Marik glanced down, noticing for the first time that Bakura was straddling him in a way similar to the position they had been in when he was massaging Bakura's back. Looking back up, he placed one hand behind Bakura's head and propelled the spirit forward until their lips met. After a few seconds, Bakura pulled away.

"I'm not going to sleep with you, Ishtar. Not until I'm back to normal."

"Why not?" Bakura smirked and leaned down, kissing Marik again as his breasts were smushed between their bodies.

"Because," Bakura said. "If we did fuck, there's a pretty good chance that I would wind up in this body for another nine months or so. And I would make your life a living hell if you made me carry your spawn around because you were stupid enough to fuck me in a woman's body."

"...So, no touching, then?" Marik asked, gesturing to Bakura's chest.

Rolling his/her eyes, Bakura rolled off of Marik and pushed him off the bed.

"Go sleep on the couch, you idiot."

"Love you too, you bitch."

* * *

**Well, I hope you all enjoyed this. Since I have decided that this summer I would like to get into a habit of updating every week or so, I have decided to start taking some oneshot requests! I would prefer Thiefshipping, since they could be added to this collection, but I will accept requests for other pairings if requested. If anyone would like to request a oneshot, please leave one in a review or send me a message! (I will need more details than just "write a story about these two characters," however.)**

**R&R, please!**


	6. Gym

**This is a request for Ginnonifu, who asked for Marik and Bakura meeting in a gym and getting competitive. I hope you like it!**

**I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.**

* * *

Bakura dropped a dumbbell on the floor, narrowly missing the brown-haired boy's feet.

"Hey, watch it!" Tristan yelled. "You could've taken my toes off!"

"Then maybe your feet shouldn't have been there!" Bakura shot back. Even though he hadn't been working out too long, he took a drink of water.

"Chill out, you two," Joey said, exchanging his kettlebell for Bakura's discarded dumbbell. "Bakura's just bored cuz there's no one for him to compete with."

"Now Joseph, do you really think I'm so shallow that I constantly need to compete with someone to boost my own self-esteem?"

"Yeah," Joey replied casually, lifting the dumbbell over his head.

"Hey, check it out. New meat." Bakura turned his head in the direction Tristan indicated. New meat was right. Some scrawny kid who had probably gotten a "free thirty day" coupon in the mail was on the elliptical, going at a speed that a turtle would call slow. Bakura smirked.

"I doubt that kid's eaten a bite of meat in his life," he said, crossing his arms. Still, he had to admit the kid didn't look too bad. A bit girly, okay a _lot_ girly, with long blonde hair and, was that actually _jewelry_? But even so, the kid didn't seem to be in _too_ bad shape. He was fit enough to catch Bakura's eye, and that was enough.

Joey rolled his eyes as Bakura started in the direction of the tanned boy.

"Wha'd I tell ya? Always gotta be competing with somebody," he muttered.

"Hello there," Bakura said, stopping next to the stranger's elliptical. The boy slowed and stared.

"...Hi?" he said, raising one eyebrow.

"Name's Bakura," the white-haired man said with a smirk.

"...Marik," came the response.

"Well, Marik, what do you say to having a bit of a friendly competition with me?" Bakura asked, deciding to get straight to the point. He couldn't help it, he loved competing. The rush of adrenaline, the smug knowledge that he was better than someone. Sometimes he would pick an easy target, just for the sake of winning, for earning that high. He knew this little upstart couldn't beat him, but he would agree either way, try his hardest, and never set foot in the gym ever again when Bakura beat him. Just like every other competition Bakura initiated.

"No thanks." Bakura blinked.

"What?"

"No thanks." Marik glanced at Bakura out of the corner of his eye. "I came here because I had a coupon and I was trying to get away from my sister for a while. That's it."

"What better way to kill time than a bit of a competition?"

"You really can't take a hint, can you?" Marik jumped off the elliptical. "I'm not interested in any 'competition' of your's, so just leave me alone and stop flirting with me!"

"Flirting?" _That_ got Bakura's blood boiling. "Just what makes you think I was flirting?"

Marik rolled his eyes and turned back to Bakura.

"You come up to a random guy out of the blue, introduce yourself, and suggest a competition that will not only allow you to show off, but would include the both of us getting hot and sweaty. From my experience, that's flirting."

"You need new experience, then," Bakura muttered, watching Marik walk to the pull-up bar. He watched the tanned boy for a few minutes, an idea hatching in his head. Smirking, he followed Marik to the pull-up bar.

"Say, Marik," he said. The Egyptian glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "What's the most pull-ups you've ever done in one round?"

Marik tipped his head to one side, thinking. He didn't go to gyms that often, but he was decent at pull-ups and other exercises. What was the most he had ever done?

"...Twenty-four, I think." Bakura's smirk widened.

"Twenty-five," was all he said. Lavendar eyes locked onto hazel, a tan smirk matched a pale one.

"It's on, Bakura."

For the next two and a half hours, Bakura got the best workout of his life. And the best part was, he actually needed some _effort_ to beat Marik. Maybe he had misjudged Marik. He certainly wasn't the scrawny weakling he appeared to be.

And it was pissing Bakura off.

He didn't start these competitions to lose, he started them to prove that he was the best, that no one could beat him. And beating him was exactly what Marik was doing. Whether it was by two pounds or two reps, Marik somehow always managed to stay just slightly above Bakura's efforts. Finally, ten minutes before the gym closed, Marik suggested they call it quits.

"This was fun," he said. "But I should probably be heading home before my sister calls the National Guard."

Bakura ignored the suggestion. There was still one thing left they hadn't tried. If he could beat Marik at this, he could still go home a champion.

"Bench press. I bet I can lift more than you," he said. Marik sighed.

"Seriously? You're not giving up? I'm not going near that thing without a spotter. That's an accident just waiting to happen."

"That's easily fixed. Hey!" Bakura shouted to Joey and Tristan, who were miraculously still in the gym. "Get over here and spot us!" He turned back to Marik.

"There, I got us some spotters. Now, come on. Or are you too scared?"

Marik narrowed his eyes and followed Bakura over to the bench presses, where Tristan and Joey were waiting.

"I feel it's only fair to warn you," Marik said. "My sister works in a museum, and I help carry a lot of the heavier stuff whenever an exhibit gets moved."

"And I care why?"

"Because I've got a lot more upper-body and arm strength than you realize!" Marik snapped. Bakura laughed.

"You won't beat me this time, Marik," he said.

A few minutes later, it became quite obvious that Marik _would_ beat him this time. Every time Bakura added more weight, so did Marik. While Bakura was beginning to struggle, Marik was hardly breaking a sweat. Bakura felt something snap. He had to win this. He couldn't let this kid beat him. No way, no how.

"Another ten pounds," Bakura said. Joey shook his head.

"Dude, you can't lift that much and neither can I. You drop it, I can't help ya."

"Just add the extra ten!" Bakura yelled. Joey looked at Tristan and shrugged.

"It's his funeral," he muttered, sliding the on the extra weight and locking them on.

Gritting his teeth, Bakura grabbed the barbell and hoisted it off the rack. His muscles strained as he struggled to control the bar. He lowered it to his chest - and couldn't raise it back up.

"Shit!" Bakura struggled to raise the bar back up, back onto the rack, but it was too heavy. He couldn't lift it. As it was, he could barely keep himself from dropping it and crushing his ribcage, but the pressure was making it hard to get air.

"I tried to tell ya, Bakura," Joey said, trying to pull the barbell off. "I can't budge it!"

Marik quickly put his own barbell back and got up.

"Move it!" he shouted, pushing Joey out off the way. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed Bakura's barbell and slowly hoisted it up onto the rack. Bakura let his arms drop and lay there on the bench, taking deep breaths. After a few moments, he sat up and was immediately smacked on the back of the head. Hard.

"What the hell was that for?" he yelled, rubbing his head.

"You're such an _idiot_!" Marik yelled. "You could've gotten yourself _killed_ by doing that! You _never_ try to lift more than you know you're able to! I thought at least you of all people would be smart enough to know that! What if none of us had been able to get it off of you? You never lift more than you or your spotter can! I can't believe you'd get so caught up in this dumb challenge of yours that you'd do something so stupid!"

Bakura blinked, half shocked. No one had ever ranted at him like that before, and he wasn't quite sure of how to respond.

"Well, it's not like I'm hurt," he said, standing up. "It was just an accident. I'm fine, so you can shut up!"

"He's got a point, Bakura," Joey said.

"You shut up too, Wheeler." Joey shrugged.

"Whatever." He turned and walked away, followed by Tristan. Marik glared at Bakura.

"What? I'm fine, it was just an accident!"

"Bakura, I was barely able to lift that. If you had added too much more weight, then you would've..."

"But I didn't, and I'm not, so just forget it!" Bakura grabbed his water bottle and headed for the door. "I'm going home."

"Wait." Bakura paused as Marik ran up to him.

"What?" he growled. Marik hesitated.

"I, er, I really had fun to day, up until this last part. So, maybe we could, I dunno, work out again sometime? No competitions or anything, just working out as friends?"

Bakura paused, staring at the boy, then smirked.

"_Now_ who's the one who's flirting?" he teased. Marik's face turned red.

"I didn't mean-"

"Relax, kid, I know what you meant." Bakura smirked. "Maybe if we run into each other again, we'll work out."

Marik smiled slightly. Then, without warning, he kissed Bakura's cheek and smirked.

"See you around, Bakura," he said, walking out of the gym. Bakura watched him go, smirking.

"Just wait, Marik. Next time, I'll win."

* * *

**I really enjoyed writing this, especially the last scene. I hope you all enjoyed reading it!**


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